


Seventeen

by revolutionaryshots (androidian)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, also okay........ technically if this is in game july 3rd half the team isn't there but shhh, anyways happy birthday my sunshine son i'm sorry i did this to you, but you're doing better and have many friends now and i'm proud, forGOT TO ADD FUTABA LIKE A FOOL, heavy abuse warning, kamoshida and ryuji's dad are in it so Naturally but still, let me pretend for a minute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidian/pseuds/revolutionaryshots
Summary: birthdays haven't inspired joy in ryuji for years: it's a curse, truly.maybe though, just maybe, this year will finally be different.{ Birthday fic for my boy Ryuji. 7.3.17 is officially a blessed day. except, y'know, wheN I'M LATE TO POSTING THIS BY A FEW MINUTES SORRY HONEY }





	Seventeen

Ages 1 to 4 were normal. Each year he grew a little more, added a few more words to his vocabulary, gained a little more knowledgeable in regards to the circumstances surrounding his parents. It's okay though, his mother reassured, fights are common in a marriage. She didn't explain her bruises ever, stating only that she had fallen going up the steps to their apartment or that she had walked into a door frame once or twice. It didn't do anything to question further and thus the topic was dropped.

 

Age 5 left a horrible taste in his mouth, the beginning of a sting that burned in his knuckles and the smell of alcohol firmly rested in his nostrils. One lash, two lashes, three lashes, four, five--

 

Age 6. Six lashes.

 

Age 7. Seven lashes.

 

Age 8. Eight lashes. 

 

Age 9. Nine lashes.

 

Age 10. Ten lashes.

 

Age 11. Eleven lashes, one burn mark to the right ankle.

 

Age 12. Twelve lashes and busted lip.

 

Age 13. Thirteen lashes and harsh words to hurt whatever a belt couldn't. He understood now, all of those words that were added to his vocabulary where his mother told him to stop repeating them, desperate and pleading. Ryuji bit his tongue and accepted whatever was thrown at him, belt buckle against his back a sharp reminder of his current reality. 

 

Age 14. Fourteen lashes, an even combination of a belt and his father's tongue doing the work. Insults to punctuate the crack against his skin, a tear for every hit and more. The night dragged on, his mother left a sobbing mess in the corner with a cut across her cheek. If it wasn't him it would be her and, in spite of the fear that boiled in his stomach every time he was near his father, he had priorities. 

 

Age 15. The lashes didn't come.  For the last month he's stared at the door, wondering when it would bust open and the smell of a freshly opened bottle would waft into the room and singe the hairs in his nose. His bag hung off the knob, never touched by a rough hand that sought to hurt, to punish the innocent. Ryuji felt freedom for the first time in ten years and it was sweet. Freedom never lasted forever though, not in a cruel world like this.

 

Age 16. Dirt stuck to his teeth, black eye already showing through tanned skin. Bruises were bound to form where the shoe was pressed into his cheek, head against the ground and a headache already in the works to make everything worse. Words were distant, eyes caught on the distant school building as opposed to the jeers from the man that stood above him. His vision was filled with the peeled wallpaper of his family's old apartment, cracks of a belt singing in his ears. Ryuji wondered if this was hell; if he had finally died and was being punished eternally for being someone that wasn't even strong enough to protect his own mother, himself, Takamaki, the team-- he wouldn't be surprised. The hand that fisted itself into his shirt collar dragged him to his feet, one eye swollen shut and the other barely focused on the smug smirk that rested upon Kamoshida's face. Ryuji felt his feet land flatly upon the floor before he was shoved, a stumble or two landing him face first onto the rough material of the track that he loved. _Run_. That was all what he figured this would be; force a few laps for making an attempt to skip practice when a meet was coming up. He supposed he shouldn't be shocked though. A one year break didn't guarantee eternal safety and he was naive enough to believe that life would suddenly play fair on his terms. 

 

( When he arrived home with a bruised face and tears that subconsciously fell, his mother cried with him and apologized over and over. )

 

Age 17. The cool air of Leblanc's AC blows through the cafe, yellow fabric pressed between two fingers that relentlessly tug at it to further circulation air. Ryuji leans his head back and lets out a loud groan, clearly finding the heat to be intolerable. Not that the harsh summer air is the only thing that he hates currently, certainly not; the fact he is alone when he was _called_ there by the rest of the Phantom Thieves only for them to not be present pissed him off just a bit more. The blond rocks forward, elbows to the tabletop and chin now resting on sweaty palms. Where the hell are they? They hadn't even made a warning that they would be late, nor did they mention that they wouldn't be here to begin with. So here he is, sitting alone with not even the cafe's owner to keep him company (the closed sign _is_  rather prominent on the door). 

 

" Where the hell are they at...? Y'can't just call a guy out like this in the blazin' heat and expect him to just sit alone for twenty minutes, " he grumbles, arms having given up holding his head as he rested his cheek right on the table. Eyes shut, Ryuji preparing to take a nap right then and there. If he's asleep, then he can't be think about how he's about to melt right there in the booth and that would solve one of the two problems currently on his mind. 

 

As usual, preparing to do something usually results in another thing happening altogether. This time, thankfully, it's the sound of the bell jingling as someone steps into the shop. Ryuji lifts his head to stare, eyeing Haru as she simply blocks the view of the doorway from his seat. An eyebrow raises, focus shifting elsewhere as Yusuke and Ann follow after, continuing to create a human barrier between Ryuji and the door. Needless to say the whole display is  _extremely_ creepy, especially with how all the three currently standing members are just smiling at him. He moves closer to the edge, slowly moving to stand before darkness overwhelms his vision and he falls back, smacking his head on the bench with a loud yelp. Jesus, what the f--

 

" Futaba, be careful...! If he isn't coherent, how are we supposed to get through this surprise? " rings out a voice, very clearly belonging to Makoto.

 

" First things first, don't mention the surprise when he's clearly awake! " comes Futaba's remark, hands remaining locked over his eyes and fingers grappling around the back of his ears. Thankfully for Ryuji, Futaba is extremely small and rather weak, making it easy to remove her hands and level a glare towards the hacker. In return she grins, far too proud of her work as she climbs off her spot on the bench and folds her hands behind her back in triumph. 

 

" ANYWAYS, " she begins, whipping around and nearly whacking the runner with her hair. " You're all lucky I bought you enough time with that little stunt. For a bunch of thieves, you all aren't the most subtle bunch outside of the Metaverse, are you? "

 

Frankly, Ryuji has zero clue what the fuck is even going on at this point and the fact that the gang is trying to be sneaky without him only adds to his confusion. " Uh, is anyone gonna tell me what the hell is goin' on? "

 

It's Akira that wanders over to him, stretching out a hand. The blond simply stares for a minute before tentatively taking hold, finally rising from the booth that he would swear he would become attached to if left there much longer. He's lead to the counter, hand only dropping when Akira has to move behind it. The rest of the group follows, leaving Ryuji alone in his bar stool as he watches everyone else form a semi-circle on the other side. He blinks, canting his head and raising his eyebrow once more.

 

Moments later, it all comes rushing to the forefront. July 3--

 

Fingers curl deeply into the skin of his knees as he stares at the cake in front of him. There's a portrait of him, clearly done courtesy of Yusuke as there's no chance they had a random photograph plastered on. A skull and crossbones sits in the corner to set off the look, blond almost feeling the mask that rests on his face now as opposed to the painful process of receiving it the first time around. Examining further, he takes notice of writing that circles his entire portrait. He leans over a bit to get a better look, necklace hitting the edge of the counter top.

 

" Happy birthday! - Akira / Happy 17th! - Ann / Congratulations on making it another year. - Makoto / May your year go well. - Yusuke / Level up! - Futaba "

 

In place of words, a cat paw is drawn for Morgana and flowers are beautifully done around the portrait's head for Haru's part in the cake. He finds it endearing, honestly, that each member thought to come up with their own personal touch as opposed to one big 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' that could've easily been scrawled across the top.

 

Even so, Ryuji isn't sure where to start. His mouth opens to speak, slowly shutting it when he finds his entire vocabulary has effectively been wiped from his mind. That does nothing to stop the tears that prick at the corners of his eyes and plop onto the shiny counter top. Concern is audible in the air as the rest of the Thieves observe their friend in tears, his entire body shaking and eyes fixated upon the cake, head bowed and unable to be seen.

 

The tension lifts a moment later with his head, bright grin displayed fully. In spite of his crying and the trembling in his voice, it's clear how Ryuji feels about the secret celebration. 

 

" ... Thanks for makin' this my best birthday yet, guys. "

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this so fast since my other ryuji centric fic will take 20 years to finish SO have this instead. i love this boy, i want him to be happy always


End file.
